POV: Beth
If Maregrave was a corpse, Deadwater Port was a rot that refused to die.
It stank of old blood, fish guts, and secrets. The harbor was crowded—ships jammed in close together, some flying pirate flags, others bare, pretending they belonged to no one. Men shouted over crates, women laughed too loudly, drunk sailors pissed directly into the sea. It was loud, filthy, alive.
Normally it would have overwhelmed me. Now it barely scratched the surface of what I was feeling.
The Prince wanted the Sea Daughter dead. My father’s execution marched closer. Maregrave burned every time I closed my eyes.
I followed Alaric into the tavern like a shadow with a pulse.
Inside, everything was louder. We wove through the crowd—Alaric in front, Kaine behind him, me at his shoulder, the rest of the crew scattered.
At a table near the back, a group of smugglers waited—scarred men, lean, with eyes that missed nothing. Their leader, a big man with gold teeth and a scar over his brow, grinned when he saw Alaric.
“Black Tide,” he said. “Didn’t think you were still breathing.”
“I disappoint people all the time,” Alaric replied easily, sliding onto the bench across from him. “You got my powder?”
The smuggler jerked his chin toward crates stacked behind him. “Got your powder, got your shot. But rumor is Navy’s paying triple for anything that can sink pirates.”
“Rumor is,” Alaric said, smile sharpening, “men who try to play both sides end up floating face down.”
I stayed standing, fingers resting on the back of his chair, watching everyone. Habit now. I could almost feel eyes targeting him before they did.
Voices rose. Gold teeth began listing new prices. Alaric countered. They drank. Mira drifted closer, lounging against a post, soaking up the attention of half the room like a painted queen.
The argument over price escalated. Gold tooth slammed his tankard down.
“I’ll not risk the Navy for scraps, pirate,” he snarled. “They’re killing havens now. You hear about Maregrave? That was a message to the lot of you.”
“And this is my message,” Alaric said, calm and lethal. “You either deal with me, or you won’t be spending that gold long enough to regret it.”
Someone behind us moved.
I felt it before I saw it—that prickle at the back of my neck. My hand went for my dagger.
A pistol cocked.
“Alaric!” I shouted, reaching for him.
Everything happened at once.
The smuggler at the next table stood, aiming a pistol directly at Alaric’s head. I saw the barrel, saw his finger tightening around the trigger. I lunged forward, but another pirate slammed into my side, knocking me off-balance.
A flash of red moved quicker than both of us.
Mira.
She grabbed Alaric by the back of his coat and yanked him sideways, hard. The pistol exploded—the sound deafening inside the low tavern. Glass shattered behind the bar where his skull had been a heartbeat ago. Rum and blood sprayed the wall.
The room detonated into violence. Men drew swords, chairs flew, tankards shattered. I shoved the pirate off me and rolled to my feet, knife already in hand.
Alaric recovered fast—too fast—punching Gold Teeth in the jaw, sending him flying backward over his own table. Mira elbowed another smuggler in the throat and buried her dagger into someone’s thigh.
I slashed at a man coming at me with a broken bottle, cutting across his arm. He howled and went down. Someone tried to grab me from behind; I spun and slammed my knife into their shoulder, kicking their knee out.
Chaos. Screams. Laughter from idiots who thought this was entertainment.
By the time the fight died down, at least five men lay groaning or unconscious on the floor.
Alaric stood in the middle of it all, chest rising hard. Mira at his side, hair mussed, lip split, eyes bright with adrenaline.
Kaine wiped his blade and barked a laugh. “If Red Siren hadn’t pulled you, captain, you’d be dripping off the walls.”
“True,” someone from our crew said. “She saved you.”
“Saved his handsome face, at least,” another joked.
Laughter. Claps on Mira’s back. Someone lifted her arm like a champion fighter. She basked in it, eyes sharp and satisfied.
Alaric looked at her and—god help me—smiled. “You always had a flair for dramatic entrances,” he said.
“You always had a knack for walking into bullets,” she shot back.
They shared a look. Familiar. Comfortable. It burned something ugly under my ribs.
“She saved you,” I said quietly later, once the deal was salvaged somehow and the smugglers slunk off bleeding. We stood near the door as the crew celebrated, the tavern already sliding back into normal noise around us. “But that doesn’t make her safe.”
Alaric glanced at me. “She saved my life, Beth. That counts.”
“It counts,” I agreed. “But it doesn’t erase everything else. You know what she is. You know what she does when it suits her.”
“She does what all pirates do.”
I looked at him hard. “She does what benefits Mira, and only Mira. Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Is this really about her, or is this about you?”
My stomach dropped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He stepped closer, voice lowering. “You’re on edge. You’re angry. You have every right to be. But this—” He gestured between me and Mira across the room, where she laughed loudly with two of our men. “—this feels like something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like jealousy.”
The word landed like a slap.
I stared at him, heat rushing to my face. “You arrogant bastard. You think I’m jealous because I’m warning you she’s dangerous?”
He didn’t flinch. “I think you’re jealous she was the one standing close enough to pull me away.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The anger was so sharp it made my hands tremble.
“I left once,” I said, forcing the words through my teeth. “Yes. I left your ship. I left because you made it very clear I was just a burden. A spoiled little noble girl who didn’t belong.”
He opened his mouth. I cut him off.
“And I survived. I fought. I bled. I nearly died. Alone. While you were off chasing swords and glory. Don’t you dare reduce everything I’ve done to jealousy.”
His jaw clenched. A muscle in his cheek ticked. “You walked away,” he said, quieter. “You chose to.”
“I walked away because staying meant dying in another way.” My throat burned. “I walked away because you made it impossible to stay.”
Pause.
“I think,” I said, forcing my voice not to shake, “that if you let Mira stand too close, she’ll be the one pushing you into a bullet next time, not pulling you away from it.”
He looked down at me for a long beat. Then his eyes shuttered.
“You see betrayal everywhere,” he said. “Maybe that’s because you can’t forgive yourself for leaving.”
My breath stopped. That hurt more than I expected. More than it should have.
“Go drink with her, then,” I rasped finally, anger and hurt twisting together.
His eyes flashed. “Careful, princess. You’re not the only one who can walk away.”
He turned and left before I could answer—crossing the tavern in a few strides, slipping back into the noise and warmth where Mira waited with a smirk and an outstretched drink.
He took it.
The crew cheered.
I stepped outside. Night air slapped me, sharp and salty. The harbor glimmered with lantern reflections. I walked to the edge of the dock and gripped the rail until my fingers numbed.
“Fine,” I whispered to the dark waves. “Pick her. Trust her. Ignore me.”
The sea rolled below, uncaring.
“When the time comes,” I said, voice low, “I’ll be the one standing between you and the grave. And I won’t need anyone to shove you out of the way.”
The Prince hunted me. The Navy named me Sea Daughter. The witch called me Storm Bride.
And Alaric?
He still didn’t understand that when Mira finally chose her side, he might be the one left bleeding.